


But What He Really Wants To Do Is Direct

by fangst (100percentsassy)



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, Laszlo's porno career rising like a phoenix out of the ashes of the Theatre des Vampires, M/M, Nandor is very cool and aloof throughout, Some canon-typical supernatural violence in Chapter 4, not as crack-ish as the summary would lead you to believe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26809291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100percentsassy/pseuds/fangst
Summary: Laszlo is resurrecting his porno career, and he needs a couple of leads. Not you, Colin Robinson.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Comments: 55
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

It was Laszlo who called the house meeting. In retrospect, Nandor thought, that was a bad sign. Perhaps he should not have attended. But there were the protocols…

Nandor grimaced and shifted uncomfortably on the couch in the fancy room. He could sense Guillermo standing behind him.  _ Fucking guy.  _ Why was he still here, anyway? He should go, go be a vampire murderer somewhere else, somewhere  _ very far away _ , preferably. It wasn’t as though Nandor needed him. He could disembark from his coffin as a vapor. Vapor never needed its hair brushed, either. Or its clothes run through the dangerous gauntlet of the cleaning.

“I,” shouted Laszlo, bursting through the door, “have fucking  _ excellent _ news.”

“The Council’s stopped trying to kill us?” asked Guillermo.

“No!” Laszlo plunked down a large cardboard box in the center of the room. Guillermo rolled his eyes. Nandor couldn’t see them, but he knew they were rolling. “I’m resurrecting my porno career.”

From the depths of the box, he unearthed a chunky grey movie recording...  _ thingie _ that looked like it weighed a considerable amount.

“Vintage RCA camcorder,” said Colin Robinson, from his chair by the door. “Nice. Does that puppy have autofocus?”

“This puppy,” Laszlo said, not even bothering to ignore him, “is my ticket back to the big time.” He patted the device fondly.

“You called a house meeting for this?” Nandor rose, drawing his cape about him officiously. “The protocols state that house meetings are to be called only for announcements which affect at least 75% of the household. Meaning you, Nadja, and me. Not Colin Robinson.”

Guillermo snorted.

“Vampiric household only, Guillermo,” said Nandor. Seriously, why was he still hanging around? He could have left with his miniature ice box any time in the past two weeks.

“Ah,” said Laszlo, holding up one perfectly manicured finger. “But that’s not all. Do you remember our last orgy?”

“The one you ruined?” Nandor said, mournfully. “I never got to use my outfit of a hundred dildos.”

“Seven dildos,” said Guillermo. “Not counting your hair.”

Nandor craned his head around to glare at him. He let out a tiny hiss, which was nevertheless very commanding and scary. A hiss of disapproval. Not a hurt feelings hiss. When Nandor realized he was still staring at Guillermo, he quickly seated himself on the couch again, crossing his arms for maximum aloofness.

Laszlo had continued his monologue. Something about a babadook who recognized him from one of his unutterably wearisome adult films and had subsequently contacted him through the ether to offer him a contract.

“But this time,” Laszlo intoned, his voice doing its lofty pronouncement warble, “I shall be  _ behind _ the camera, sitting in the director’s chair. I have been given the opportunity to grow as an artist, and—”

“Who’s gonna be in front?” asked Colin Robinson.

The side of Nandor’s mouth started to twitch up into a nervous grimace.

“Of the camera,” he clarified, unnecessarily. “You know, I’ve audited quite a few college drama classes in my day, not to mention all the improv groups I run through. Turns out, theater kid energy is good for my skin.”

“Fuck off,” Laszlo said. “My good lady wife Nadja will—”

It was at that precise moment that Nadja swept in. She took one look at the camera and made a retching sound.

“Not this bloody shit again.”

“But darling—”

“I would rather ask a werewolf to take a hot piss on my face!”

Laszlo started to say something, and then seemed to be struck by a different thought. He glanced up to the ceiling, considering. “Now, that’s an idea…”

Nadja let out a frustrated growl, turned into a bat and flew out of the room. Nandor guessed she was off to visit Jenna, and that she’d stay away for at least a week. Maybe Benjy would like a visit from his old master… but then Nandor would have to play jolf with him. Or worse. Mini-jolf.

“Well,” Laszlo sighed, “you know what they say in the porno film industry: flexibility is the most important thing.” He clapped his hands and wheeled around. “Nandor,” he said. “Giz—Guillermo.”

Nandor cringed.

“How would you two like to have A-plus list, starring roles in my blockbuster feature debut? Maybe a forbidden seduction story about a human slayer and the vampire he’s been sent to kill…”

Nandor opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Guillermo started to laugh.

“Oh, you don’t seriously think—” Guillermo chuckled again. “Oh, Laszlo,  _ no.  _ No way in hell, sorry.”

This time Nandor turned fully around, face aghast. Guillermo was very pink with mirth. He was removing his glasses and wiping his eyes. It was unbelievably rude of him. This puny, pathetic human should be begging to have sexy intercourse with a cool, powerful vampire on film! Not that Nandor would agree to it, obviously. But it was  _ he _ who should be laughing. Why was  _ he  _ not the one laughing? And why was Guillermo walking nonchalantly out of the room?

What was happening?

“Well, buddy. I guess it’s you and me, then.” Colin Robinson grinned at him, eyes flashing blue. “And hey, there’s this new position everyone’s talking about. It’s called updog.”

Nandor leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. All in all, eternal existence as a vapor had never seemed more appealing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to estimate the number of dildos because I couldn't quite tell on my tiny little phone screen...
> 
> The next chapter is Guillermo POV. Which I will write the next time I have insomnia. So, soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Guillermo groaned as he climbed into his high four-poster bed in the blue room. _Well, that was embarrassing_. His face was still flushed beet red. He reached up and pulled the curtains closed. They were a bit dusty, but on the whole, the room and the bed had been a nice, low-key oasis from the tensions in the rest of the house. And he had just… claimed them for himself. Without asking for permission. As if he was powerful or something.

He _was_ powerful.

Then why did he still feel the need to draw the curtains and hide? To shrink his world down to the size of his old room under the stairs?

He supposed the conventional wisdom was true, that old habits die hard. Nandor was a very, very old habit of his. Guillermo sighed with frustration. He couldn’t just leave him again. Not now. Not with the Council hanging over both their heads.

But not leaving felt like giving up. He had grown so much in the past year. He had a new sense of self—a new sense of self- _respect_ —that he suspected Nandor would love to crush.

_This is temporary._ He’d been assuring himself of that for almost two weeks. Pretty soon it would be a month.

Nandor was bad for him. It had taken him too long to see it.

Guillermo cringed, remembering the scene in the fancy room. _I really said the exact number of dildos._ Mortifying. He imagined what Nandor must be thinking right now—if he was thinking about it at all. He imagined what he’d be saying to the camera crew if they were here. _“Guillermo may be able to kill me, but he is still very obsessed with me. Poor little guy. Did you hear that pathetically transparent attempt to cover up with the laughing?”_

“Come on, Memo,” he whispered to himself. “Get up. Start packing.”

He managed to lift one arm. Then he sighed, rolled onto his side, and started to trace the pattern in the quilt. He could think about leaving in the morning.

The next moment, his slayer senses were on high alert. Something undead was behind the closed bedcurtain. Something undead, with broad shoulders and beautiful hair.

“Ma—Nandor?” Guillermo asked. He propped himself up on an elbow and tried to look as though he was relaxing, not wallowing in shame.

Nandor parted the curtain and peeked in.

“That is creepy, how you do that, Guillermo. I was being totally silent.”

“Right,” Guillermo said. “I’m the creepy one.”

Nandor just stood there, unnaturally still. He was making what Guillermo thought of as his demerit face, which usually meant that Guillermo had committed some sort of unpardonable affront to his pride, like “having a bored pulse” when Nandor was reciting one of his many repetitive battle stories, or eating actual human snacks.

Well, Guillermo didn’t have to care about any of that anymore. He glared right back at Nandor.

“What are you doing here?”

Nandor opened his mouth, offended. Then he closed it again.

“I am here for the ‘just talking.’”

Guillermo stared at him, puzzled. Then he remembered. “ _Oh._ ” He chuckled. “Nandor, you really don’t have to do that. I’m not your familiar anymore.”

It was one of his conditions when he returned to the house after the Celeste incident—that Nandor drop by his room once a week to “just talk.” It had only happened twice, and both times were horribly awkward, mostly due to Nandor being at his most stiff and formal whenever he sat down on Guillermo’s bed. Like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world. It was depressing.

_I wasted a decade on this person._

Guillermo shook his head, a little disgusted at himself. He really was going to leave in the morning. For good.

“But I want to.”

Guillermo glanced up in surprise. Nandor was still there, poking his head through the curtain, unreadable expression on his face. If Guillermo didn’t know any better, he might say Nandor looked earnest. Even… concerned?

He wasn’t buying it.

“Really. You want to.”

“ _Ye-es,_ Guillermo. You know how much I enjoy our just talking time.” Nandor tried to smile, but he mostly succeeded in looking worried. Something was actually bothering him, Guillermo could tell.

_Probably something stupid. Or something buried under so many layers of stupid, no one will ever get to the bottom of it, least of all you._

Nandor’s unsettling smile got bigger. “I have something of great importance to say to you.”

_Tell him to go away. Tell him you’re leaving._

But instead Guillermo scooted so that his back was against the headboard of the bed, making a space for Nandor to climb up. He didn’t climb up, of course. He parted the curtains and hovered.

“Go ahead.”

“Do you remember when Laszlo said that you and I should have sex in his porno film?”

Guillermo fought the urge to roll his eyes. “The thing that happened ten minutes ago? Yes, I remember.”

“I just wanted you to know…”

Guillermo’s dumb, traitorous heart skipped a beat. Then Nandor threw his head back and laughed.

“I also think it is ridiculous! Ha-ha-ha! You may not have thought that I thought that, because I didn’t laugh fast enough, but rest assured, Guillermo, that I do not want to have sex with you ten times more than you do not want to have sex with me.”

Well. This had been predictable.

“Okay, Nandor,” Guillermo sighed.

“I definitely do not.”

“Yes. You said that.”

“I do not feel that way about you.”

Guillermo stared at Nandor in silence. He had stopped laughing, his face curiously hard and almost challenging. What did that mean? _Layers of stupid._ Guillermo would probably never know.

Slowly, silently, Nandor hovered backward out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, confused, overcompensating Nandor. *chef’s kiss* 
> 
> I have to figure out where exactly it goes from here, but I hope to end up around 5-8k.


	3. Chapter 3

As he swept down the corridor, fresh from his dramatic and perfectly-executed conversational vanquishing of Guillermo, Nandor wondered why he wasn’t feeling more triumphant. Instead, his whole body was experiencing a slight… sagginess. Like a deflated party balloon. Perhaps his last few meals had been nutritionally deficient.

It wasn’t just Guillermo’s insolent lack of sex feelings for his master— _former_ master, Nandor reminded himself—although that alone was a severe offense deserving of many demerits. It wasn’t just that Nandor had suspected for years that Guillermo _did_ harbor very robust sex feelings for him and now apparently _didn’t_ , just like he _didn’t_ want Nandor to make him a vampire anymore and _didn’t_ want to brush Nandor’s hair or display the glitter portrait Nandor made for him, or…

Nandor roared incoherently and smashed his fist through a framed oil painting. Then he stopped and took a spiteful, un-biologically necessary breath. _Calm yourself. One tiny human man is not worth it._

He punched through two more oil paintings and kept walking. And thinking.

It wasn’t just those things that were robbing him of his rightfully earned victory glow. It was something else, something he couldn’t quite grasp.

_Yet._

Nandor was going to hunt it down, grasp it, and choke it death, or his last name wasn’t The Relentless.

He thought over their encounter, which he had won—obviously. He heard Guillermo’s voice, and remembered the days when it had been hopeful and chipper. Now it was always sarcastic. Why didn't that sit well? Nadja was sarcastic too, but it had never bothered him.

And he had noticed something else in Guillermo’s room, beyond the glaring absence of sparkly paintings: a half-packed suitcase, sweaters strewn about, not placed in drawers or on hangers in the armoire. Was that what was making Nandor into a sad balloon? That Guillermo was on the point of moving out again?

 _No_ , Nandor thought, with a snarl. Guillermo's presence in the house was a threat. Everything would improve if he just went away. In fact, it was exactly what Nandor had been waiting for.

With a twisting feeling in his dead insides, Nandor wondered why _he_ hadn’t made Guillermo leave. He was the household conqueror, after all. He had defeated a fucking enormous werewolf in hand-to-squeaky-toy combat and twice turned the Euphrates red with blood! Surely he could handle evicting one ex-familiar. Who a very short while ago had been standing over him, covered in holy water and the gore of battle, surrounded by dozens of the bodies of his slain enemies…

Nandor stilled. The image of Guillermo in that darkened theater made him suddenly remember, for the first time in many centuries, the feeling of his own heart beating.

“Do you like it?”

Nandor blinked, jolted out of his thoughts. He realized he was standing outside the open door of the music room. Laszlo was inside, playing a jaunty tune on his electronic harpsichord.

“What?”

“It’s for the porno. I’m scoring it myself.”

Nandor’s lips parted, baring his fangs in an expression of annoyance as he slid into the room. “I have already said I am not going to be in your pornography film, Laszlo.”

Laszlo laughed, black fingernails flying over the keys. “Good one, old chap. Now I was thinking, for the grand finale, I could perhaps adapt one of my older works…”

He started to sing a lusty chorus of what sounded like “Cum on Helsing,” set to the melody of “Chum on Irene.” Nandor looked up to the ceiling in utter disgust, but all he saw were undusted cobwebs. He turned to leave.

“Something’s the matter.”

Laszlo played a jazz riff as Nandor stood in the doorway, his shoulders hunched and stiff. Where was he going? _Where was there to go?_

He rounded on Laszlo. “No. There is nothing the matter.”

Laszlo glanced up from his harpsichord, fixing Nandor with a rather penetrating look. “Now that _is_ a good one,” he said. “But I can’t have my adult film star in a snit.”

“I have no snits,” Nandor insisted.

Laszlo raised his eyebrows in an expression that clearly said, _Horse piss. But if you want to continue being a clueless arse about him, I won’t stop you._ Nandor opened and closed his mouth and wondered exactly how good Laszlo was at hypnotism.

“The vampire character in my film is conflicted,” Laszlo said, switching to a series of moody minor chords. “For so long, he's been able to cause humans pain with absolutely no risk to himself, and now along comes a human who can take him down. In more ways than one, if you catch my drift…”

_Pain._

Nandor frowned. Guillermo’s face flashed through his mind, in the moment just after Nandor had said _I do not feel that way about you._ There had been a ripple of… sadness?

“Yes,” he whispered. Then he cleared his throat. “And?”

Laszlo stopped playing and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Nothing. I was just wondering if it would be out of character for Van Helsing to use nipple clamps. What do you think?”

There was no one to answer him but the trailing edge of a mutinous-looking vapor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🎵Cum on Helsing  
> From the vampire’s peen...🎵  
> Most of the rest of the lyrics just rhyme cream with cream. (Also, I keep mentioning Laszlo’s nail polish because I would die protecting it.)
> 
> Thanks and credit to angryjam/nowweare9direction for the "Good one, old chap" idea!
> 
> One more (hopefully) long chapter and an epilogue to go.


	4. Chapter 4

Guillermo spent the next morning packing. He hadn’t brought much with him when he moved back in, just toiletries and some clothes. It wasn’t supposed to be a permanent arrangement. He’d wanted to be around in case the Council decided to retaliate immediately, wanted to give the vampires time to make their own plans for protecting or hiding themselves. Instead, all four of them had just been going about their normal lives, unbothered. Depending on him, as always.

“How convenient for them,” he muttered, as he clicked his suitcase shut. _Not anymore_.

The suitcase was the easy part. He still had slayer gear stashed all over the house, just in case. Maybe he should leave it. Go now, get out of there and never look back.

He sat back on his heels and sighed. _No_. He didn’t want Nandor to open a linen closet one day and get an accidental stake to the chest.

_Will I ever stop thinking about him and his stupid needs?_

Guillermo’s head began to swim. He was tired, he realized. Tired of protecting vampires, tired of killing vampires, tired of having horrendously embarrassing unrequited crushes on vampires, and _definitely_ tired of being taken for granted by vampires who expected him to do all of their menial household chores in addition to the aforementioned protecting and killing.

Also, he realized with dull half-interest, he was just plain physically tired. There had been no assassins this time, not yet, but he’d spent the last two weeks on high alert. He wondered if there were any chocolate-covered espresso beans left under his old bed.

He yawned. _I’ll just rest my eyes for a few minutes. Then get the rest of my stuff and go…_

He lay down, pulling out his phone, and was asleep before he managed to set an alarm.

#

Guillermo woke to darkness, and the sounds of his housemates moving around.

_Dammit._

He’d missed his chance to leave while they were asleep and avoid confrontation. Blinking into the darkness, he wondered what to do. Retrieve his remaining things and leave anyway? Try to pretend everything was normal for one more night?

Guillermo reached out through the bedcurtain to turn on the lamp he kept on his nightstand. Parting the curtain and adjusting his glasses, he let out a string of curses in two languages.

On the rug next to his bed was…

 _Oh, I truly_ cannot _deal with this shit._

Guillermo yanked the curtain shut.

Then he took a deep breath and looked again, just to make sure. And, yes. There it was. On his rug.

A gigantic ceramic pot holding a mini topiary that Laszlo had clipped into the shape of an asshole.

Guillermo considered screaming into a pillow, but he no longer trusted pillows. Not in this house. Instead he gingerly unfolded the piece of paper that had been stuck into the topiary and was clearly addressed to him, although his name had been badly misspelled.

CALL SHEET

VAN HELSING VS COUNT FUCKULA: AN EROTIC MUSICALE IN TWO ACTS

NANDOR THE RELENTLESS AS FUCKULA

GEEIERMO CRUISE AS VAN HELSING

***FANCY ROOM***

***10:30 PM***

“Oh, it’s on,” Guillermo said out loud, to any supernaturally sensitive vampire ears that might be listening. “This ends tonight.”

Getting a solid chunk of sleep had cleared his head and restored his confidence. He was fully awake now. The ass topiary was both a revelation, and the last straw. He knew exactly what needed to be done.

Guillermo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had an hour to prepare. Plenty of time. Shoulders sagging, adrenaline subsiding, he opened his eyes again and studied the topiary more closely. All of the vulvas out in Laszlo’s garden had been modeled on living—or formerly living—subjects, he knew. Whose asshole was this?

His stomach erupted in butterflies.

_Don’t. Think about it._

#

When he walked into the fancy room an hour later, Guillermo was wearing his trench coat. He ignored Laszlo, who started shouting blocking directions at him, and Colin Robinson, who was dressed in an identical trench coat.

“Improv experience,” he said, ticking off items on his fingers. “Vampire sex experience, experience on a movie set…” Colin Robinson glanced up and saw Guillermo, and threw up his hands. “See, that’s, that’s—he copied my vision for the character.”

“Shut up, Colin Robinson,” Laszlo said.

“Wait,” said Guillermo, “what set were you on?”

“I was a technical consultant on the Twilight movies,” Colin Robinson answered. “Really kept the energy to a minimum.”

Laszlo sighed, and raised his hand with a flourish. “You may operate the camera as long as you agree not to drain my performers before they drain each other.”

“About that,” Guillermo began to say, but was cut off when Nandor glided into the room, clutching his own call sheet and staring at it with a confused expression.

“What is this shit, Laszlo?” he asked. “I have told you three times—”

He looked up to see Guillermo pointing a stake at him.

“Heyyy…” His voice trailed off, gaze flicking over to Laszlo in a silent appeal before settling warily on the pointy threat.

The three vampires stilled.

“Nandor,” said Guillermo. He paused and took a deep breath, relishing the feeling of raw power he always got, holding a stake. It was coursing through him, a sense of control over his own life and his own choices that he had rarely enjoyed as an adult. “We need to talk.”

“Right into it, eh?” Laszlo said. “Roll camera.”

“We’re not—” Guillermo sighed. “Oh, whatever.”

“What is going on, Guillermo?” Nandor was holding up his hands in a gesture not so much of surrender as of _please don’t touch me_. He took a slow step backward, as though Guillermo were a rattlesnake he was trying not to provoke. “Did you change your mind about not wanting to have sex with me in the porno?”

“What? No!”

“You can admit it,” Nandor said. “I will be merciful.”

“Cut the bullshit, Master.”

Nandor’s mouth dropped open in surprise and affront. Guillermo felt his stomach clench painfully. _God_ , this was so frustrating. How many times had he seen that expression in the last month? When was Nandor going to get used to him—the _real_ him, the one with opinions and agency?

“I was going to leave.” Guillermo moved closer, angling the stake toward Nandor’s chest as he spoke. “I was _this_ close to never seeing or speaking to you again.”

To his credit, Nandor wasn’t moving. He wasn’t edging away or turning into a bat. “Ridiculous, Guillermo. Why would you do that?” His face quivered, expression floating between pain and quiet anger. “Again?”

Guillermo stopped a couple of paces away. Not too close, but at this range, he couldn’t miss.

“Oh, for the same boring old reasons. You take me for granted, you don’t see me as an equal worthy of respect… And because I noticed that something has really been upsetting you since we got home from the theater.”

Nandor opened his mouth to deny it, but Guillermo thrust his stake forward.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been _bugging_ you. And do you know what I told myself?”

Nandor frowned. “Why would I know that?”

“I don’t—” Guillermo took another breath. “It’s rhetorical. I told myself, _It’s not your problem, Memo. Don’t worry about it._ Worrying about you and your problems is what the old me would do, the me who hung on your every word and made you the hero of all my romantic fantasies and dreamed I could be like you one day.”

“Ha!” Nandor said, face brightening as he pointed at Guillermo. “You do have sex feelings for me.” He looked around to make sure Laszlo and Colin Robinson were paying attention. “He does have the sex feelings!”

“Yes,” Guillermo said. “ _Obviously._ ”

He almost lost his train of thought when Nandor grinned at him rapaciously.

“That’s not—” He swallowed hard. “Anyway, then I realized that worrying about your stupid well-being isn’t just something the old me would do. It’s something every version of me does.” He steeled himself, moving his left hand slowly to his pocket. “But the running away. The pushing it down, the not confronting it. The not confronting _you?_ That was the old me.”

“Cut,” said Laszlo. “This feelings jive isn’t exactly what I was looking for in this picture. Can we go again from the top?”

Guillermo ignored him, eyes trained on Nandor. “So what I’m going to do now,” he said, “is ask you straight out: What is it about me that’s been bothering you so much, Nandor?”

 _Layers of stupid,_ he thought to himself. _Here we go._

Nandor flashed his fangs. “You do not have the power to bother me, little man.”

With a lightning fast draw, Guillermo had the holy water out of his pocket and was spraying it in Nandor’s face.

 _“Aaaaaaah!”_ He started hopping around, steam rising from the shoulders of his cape. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“Try again.”

“Guillermo,” Laszlo said, in a warning tone, but he stepped back when Guillermo pointed the holy water at him instead.

“Fine,” Nandor spat, flames flicking out of his mouth as he dabbed at the blood that had begun to flow from his eyes. “I was bothered. By you.”

Guillermo nodded, and put the holy water back into his pocket.

“But only because now you are some big guy vampire slayer. You could be fighting off assassins and make a mistake and kill me! Or Nadja or Laszlo!”

“Or me,” said Colin Robinson.

_JOYFUL! JOYFUL! WE ADORE THEE_

_GOD OF GLORY, LORD OF LOVE!_

Guillermo held his phone in his hand like a weapon as choral music blasted from the small Bluetooth speaker he had hidden in the mouth of the stuffed bear. Laszlo and Nandor keeled over, blood fountaining out of their ears.

Guillermo pressed pause when he thought they’d had enough.

“Everybody knows Beethoven was a hack,” muttered Laszlo, wiping blood off his neck with a lace handkerchief.

Nandor got shakily to his feet. “Guillermo! What do you think you are doing?”

“Excavating.”

Nandor gave a weak hiss. Guillermo advanced on him, this time pulling out a rosary and crucifix. Odd, how the smell of Nandor’s blood only made this moment more delicious. Maybe he would become a vampire someday after all.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he said. “And I’m going to need you to answer honestly.”

Nandor still looked reluctant. There was a long silence, and then something in him seemed to give way.

“The truth…” he said. He seemed especially forbidding right now, gazing at Guillermo, his skin chalk white, black eyes ringed with dried blood. “You will not like the truth. You will think I am being disrespectful again.”

“Try me.”

Nandor licked his lips. “Hurting you puny blood sacks has always given me great pleasure. Even before my dark transformation, when I myself was a slightly less puny blood sack than the other blood sacks around me. That is the man that I am.”

He paused, his face tense and somewhat defiant as he waited for Guillermo’s reaction.

But Guillermo didn’t react. “And now?” he asked. “What changed?”

“Since your glorious victory in battle,” Nandor went on, “Seeing you like that… what you are capable of…” His voice swelled in obvious admiration, and Guillermo felt a warm flutter somewhere low in his belly. “It made me think about how much pain I have caused you, Guillermo. Hurting humans has made me happy for many hundreds of years. But now hurting you has made me _unhappy._ It is very confusing.”

Guillermo sighed. It wasn’t exactly what he’d been hoping for. But it was the truth, and it was a start.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” Nandor said. “That’s it?”

Guillermo twirled the stake in his fingers and holstered it with a fluid motion.

“Come on,” he said, gently taking Nandor’s arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

#

They were in the bathroom, hot steam rising from the sink, when Nandor broke the uncertain silence that had arisen between them.

“Last night you reminded me that you are no longer my familiar,” he said. Guillermo was wiping blood out of his beard with slow, soothing strokes. “So this is something you do not have to do. And the hair brushing…”

Guillermo detected a hint of regret in Nandor’s voice.

“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t have to.” He twisted out the bloody water into the sink. Then he used just the tips of his fingers to turn Nandor’s chin before he started in on the other side.

And he felt Nandor shiver at his touch.

“There are a lot of things I didn’t like doing for you,” Guillermo explained. He continued in a softer voice. “But this, I always loved.”

“Oh,” whispered Nandor.

“Brushing your hair, dressing you…”

He hesitated, smiling shyly but looking Nandor in the eye. “Undressing you.”

Nandor leaned forward, pausing for just a moment before he slid a large hand through Guillermo’s curly hair and kissed him.

Guillermo’s stomach swooped. Tingling flooded the base of his spine and washed outward, shooting through his limbs to the tips of his fingers and toes. The places where Nandor was touching him sang. Guillermo’s breath caught when Nandor moved his lips lower, to the heart of his throat, and inhaled deeply. This… _oh._ This was better than all the fantasies he’d ever had.

“You can’t accuse me of having a bored pulse,” he said, smiling as Nandor’s beard tickled him.

“No,” said Nandor. “Tonight, you are a symphony.”

Guillermo gasped as he felt the points of fangs needling his neck, not hard enough to break the skin, but definitely hard enough for his imagination to go into complete meltdown.

“The theater…” Nandor retreated for a moment, brushing the damp, slightly reddened place he had created on Guillermo’s neck with reverent fingers. “I didn’t want to tell you how magnificent you were. But you got it out of me.”

“I can do that now,” Guillermo said.

Nandor smiled. “Maybe I can do some things for you,” he said. “Like the hair brushing, and the… undressing. An exchange between equals, hmm?”

Guillermo nodded, reaching up and taking Nandor’s hand in his. “I think that’s a good place to start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laszlo worked so hard on that ass topiary!
> 
> Apologies to Friedrich Schiller for using the English lyrics, which are *much* less artful but do pack more of a punch for our unholy friends.
> 
> Stay tuned for the epilogue, in which Nadja returns and we learn the fate of Laszlo's porno...


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V.O. = voice over  
> O.S. = off screen

INT. BLUE ROOM 

Guillermo is seated in an ornately embroidered wingback chair.

GUILLERMO

What happened over the summer? I installed a new security system. Other than that, not much.

INT. LASZLO AND NADJA’S CRYPT 

Nadja and Laszlo sit next to each other in matching chairs.

LASZLO

Loads happened. I mean that literally.

NADJA

(patting Laszlo’s hand in excitement)

Yes, the big news. My husband… has starred in another porno!

LASZLO

(holds up one finger in a self-satisfied manner)

Award- _winning_ porno, my darling.

Nadja looks into the camera with a sly grin.

INT. ATTIC 

Doll Nadja is in an old-fashioned wooden high chair.

DOLL NADJA

Before she left, Nadja came to me and begged me to make sure Laszlo didn’t do another boring porn.

INT. ATTIC - EARLIER 

Security cam footage shows Nadja de-batting in the attic and speaking animatedly to Doll Nadja before flying out through one of the cracks in the ceiling.

DOLL NADJA (V.O.)

She didn’t want to be humiliated again. So I convinced him to let me take over the creative direction.

INT. FANCY ROOM - CLIP FROM “BOOTY CALL” 

Laszlo is sitting at the seance table, thick book in front of him. He recites an incantation. His own ghost appears out of thin air, dressed in a long white nightshirt, glowing faintly.

LASZLO

(exaggerated, coquettish surprise)

Oh, my. What have we here?

LASZLO’S GHOST

Unfinished business.

DOLL NADJA (V.O. CONT’D.)

The truth is, you need someone of vision in the director’s chair. And I was able to draw from my own afterlife experience, and it ended up being very emotional, very powerful, I think.

INT. LASZLO AND NADJA’S CRYPT 

LASZLO

I came to realize that my true talents lie in the realm of performance. And I handed in a performance for the fucking ages. That’s why we won the Oscar.

NADJA

(exclaims, claps fingertips)

A real Oscar!

Laszlo produces a phallus-shaped statuette, clearly a cheap dildo spray-painted gold.

LASZLO

Best Adult Film With Supernatural Themes.

INT. BLUE ROOM 

GUILLERMO

Yeah, it’s not a real Oscar. There’s a guy in Queens who runs a porn website and gives out awards.

INT. CHEAP-LOOKING BANQUET HALL - EARLIER 

Laszlo accepts the dildo statuette from a balding man with a ponytail. The shaky camera pans to show a crowd of about fifteen people, one of whom is clapping enthusiastically.

INT. LASZLO AND NADJA’S CRYPT 

CAMERAPERSON (O.S.)

So, other than the award, did anything else happen this summer?

Laszlo and Nadja think hard.

NADJA

(suddenly)

Oh! When I came back from Jenna’s, I found that someone had put a big bloody hole through the oil painting of my village. That’s the other big news— 

INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY 

Nadja gestures at the damaged painting with a look of offended disbelief on her face.

NADJA (V.O.)

—because when I find out who did that, they are going to _die._

INT. COLIN ROBINSON’S BEDROOM 

COLIN ROBINSON

Also, Nandor and Guillermo started dating.

INT. BLUE ROOM 

Guillermo smiles into the camera. He has a sort of glow about him.

CAMERAPERSON (O.S.)

So what was it that made you decide to stay?

GUILLERMO

Oh, it's… It’s a long story. Laszlo was trying to pressure me to act in his porno. Yeah... He made me one of his, um, anatomical topiaries. And when I saw it, I realized that I couldn't run away again. I had to deal with the giant asshole in front of me.

Guillermo looks to his right as the camera zooms out to a wide shot, revealing Nandor lying shirtless on the rumpled bed, sharpening one of Guillermo’s stakes for him, blissfully unaware of any double meaning in that statement.

NANDOR

(gestures with stake)

Yes. You tell them, Guillermo!

Guillermo, looking highly pleased and very slightly pink, turns back to the camera with a triumphant smile.

INT. COLIN ROBINSON’S BEDROOM. 

COLIN ROBINSON

I mean, you’ve seen what they’re like… 

INT. NANDOR’S CRYPT - LATER 

Nandor is sitting on a loveseat in full formal dress.

NANDOR

I thought I had to conquer Guillermo. But Guillermo was not my enemy. My enemy was my own pride. And that is the greatest, most dangerous foe a man can face.

The camera zooms out to reveal Guillermo standing behind Nandor, brushing his hair.

GUILLERMO

(proudly)

That’s right, _cariño_.

INT. COLIN ROBINSON’S BEDROOM 

COLIN ROBINSON

(disgusted)

Always together. Always supporting each other... _Blech!_ I tell you what, it's too sweet for my taste. Like a marshmallow Peep in relationship form.

(shaking his head)

I’ve gotta get out of here. Maybe I should go on a cruise… 

INT. ATTIC 

DOLL NADJA

(laughing)

At first Laszlo wanted to do some terrible, sad, sad cliche about vampires and slayers. I mean, can you imagine… Who would want to watch a porn about that?

INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE OF BLUE ROOM - EARLIER 

Guillermo shuts the door on the camera crew. Before the door fully closes, the camera catches him turning toward the bed, where a shirtless Nandor is placing the newly sharpened stake on a pillow. Guillermo pulls a rosary out of his pocket, and the door clicks shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sincere apologies to stealing_your_kittens for doing Colin Robinson dirty at the end here. Thanks to angryjam for the encouragement, and thanks to everyone who has left comments. I love reading them!
> 
> I will admit I had a little trouble writing this epilogue. The different format was difficult for me to wrap my head around. I kept wanting to shove in detail that really has no place in a script. Sorry it took so long to finish. I hope it turned out okay and that it's not too confusing to read! Also, my one big regret about this fic is that Nadja mostly isn't in it. If I ever write another one, she's going to have some sort of prominent role. Just imagine a B plot with Nadja/Jenna hijinks :)))
> 
> ~Some additional porn-related notes~  
> I know Laszlo's ghost passed on, but I feel like he would come back to star in an **award-winning** porno.  
> Rejected names for the porno include:  
> The Phantom Penis  
> If You’ve Got It, Haunt It  
> Specter Inspector  
> Deepthroat 4: Ghost Protocol


End file.
